


The Crucifix

by soprano_buddy15



Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Beocca learns not to judge a book by their cover, Christianity, Talking about God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: Sihtric asks Beocca a question that surprises him, and Beocca realizes that there is more to Sihtric than what meets the eye.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	The Crucifix

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy.
> 
> I'm going to start off with a little note that I hope everyone will read. 
> 
> I am hesitant to post this, as it goes a bit more in Christianity and my own personal views. I am a Christian (A Mennonite, to be exact), and me and my family are quite liberal when it comes to opinions. My favourite parts of The Last Kingdom are not the epic battle sequences (although those are pretty great), but actually when Christianity comes up. I love how uncomplicated Uhtred makes Christianity. 
> 
> This was done as a character study of Beocca, because I think he does not care much for Sihtric. In the show at least, we do not get to see him talk to Sihtric and I think that Beocca would be okay with that. Sihtric is, after all, a pagan to him. Although this work does not have the glorious, snippy remarks that Ian Hart blesses us with ("Dane boy who looks like a rat" will forever be one of my favourite lines - as well as Sihtric's innocent response that "maybe Father Beocca just forgot my name"), I really wanted to explore their deeper interactions. 
> 
> I really tried to make Sihtric and Beocca fit their character arc from the show, and so I hope that you all enjoy it! Constructive comments are always welcome! Just don't be rude, because nobody wants that.

As welcoming as Uhtred was, Beocca never felt completely comfortable in Coccham’s hall. 

The hearth was warm, and Gisela was always ready to make conversation with him. It was pleasant, but both of them very clearly avoided religion. He felt too out of placed there.

But now, Uhtred and Gisela had retired to their upper chambers and Beocca was left sitting in the hall. 

He loved Uhtred, and he knew he could look past the pagan themes of his hall. He wished that Uhtred would be more understanding in his desire to teach his children of God, but alas, it was what it was, and Beocca knew better than to try and argue with Uhtred. 

The Danes did know how to cook, he could give them that. The bread on his trencher was fresh and the meat juicy. The mead did not disappoint as well. 

The fire was burning lower, and Beocca relished in the quiet of the hall. It was peaceful, and Beocca welcomed the peace after so many months of war. 

The door opened, and Beocca glanced up, surprised at someone coming in at such a late hour, and perhaps a little irked. His surprise turned to annoyance as he saw who it was.

_Rat Boy. ___

__He knew the boy had a name, but Beocca had never desired to become close to him. Uhtred’s men were thrown together enough, and he could accept Finan and Osferth as good Christian men. Uhtred was baptized as a Christian, although his lifestyle was not of one. This boy, however, was purely Dane. The closest thing he had done to earn a place in his good books was marry a Saxon, but even that was not well thought out, given her reputation in Winchester._ _

__The boy closed the door and shook out his wet hair. It was snowing outside, and white flakes dusted his heavy black fur. Beocca observed him as he went to grab a mug of ale and fill his trencher with bread and cheese. He frowned at the boys manners as he stuck a wedge of bread into his mouth and put more meat on his trencher._ _

__Beocca prayed that the boy would leave and go back to his house with his wife and let him stay here in silence, but the boy turned around to find a seat, stopping short as he noticed Beocca sitting there._ _

__Cringing inwardly as the boy approached, Beocca watched as the boy placed his mug and trencher on the table. Removing the bread, he held it in his hand as he stood in front of Beocca. “May I join you, Father?” He asked._ _

__It would be un-christian of him to refuse after the boy had asked, but that did not mean he had to enjoy it. Beocca nodded curtly, and studied him as he gently took his seat. He was always surprised when he noticed the grace that the boy had. It translated to his voice as he spoke as well, the soft lilt of his accent and the softness in his words. Beocca was not fooled by his gentleness, however. He knew that this was a Dane, who was a brutal killer and worshipper of the pagan gods._ _

__“Cannot sleep, Father?” The boy asked, eating a piece of meat. Beocca studied his hands as he ate, the many rings flashing and arm rings clinking softly. The arm rings were for showing wealth and power, he knew, and were sought after vigorously by Danes._ _

__“I was just about to retire, actually.” Beocca replied stiffly. “And you?” He felt it would have been impolite to not inquire about the boy._ _

__Sihtric grabbed the linen cloth next to his trencher and wiped his fingers and mouth. “I was watching the river tonight,” he said. “I missed the evening meal.” Beocca sat there awkwardly, and somehow, he believed that the boy across from him was also uncomfortable._ _

__“Well, I will leave you to retire,” Beocca finally said, about to stand up._ _

__“Father, wait.”_ _

__Sighing inwardly, he sat back down, watching the boy. His hands went to his neck and pulled out a leather cord hiding beneath his tunic. Beocca leaned forward, curiosity piqued, and sat in surprise as the boy pulled the crucifix over his head and held it out in his hands. “Can you tell me about him?” He asked, gesturing to the figure of Christ._ _

__The crucifix was silver; worth a good amount although it was tarnished. “Where did you get this?” Beocca asked, almost angrily. Why would a Dane have a crucifix? To mock them?_ _

__The boy raised his eyebrows. “If you are asking whether I stole it, Father, I did not.” He handled it with a familiarity, his thumb rubbing over the front of the crucifix. Beocca could tell that the boy was deep in thought as he examined the silver cross._ _

__This was not what Beocca was expecting the boy to ask. This boy was well-versed in pagan rituals, and never showed interest in the Christian God. “Where did you get this, Sihtric?” He asked again._ _

__Sihtric looked up in surprise at the use of his name. “I never realized you actually were listening to me,” he chuckled, but reached out and placed the crucifix into Beocca’s hand. He examined it closely, noting the worn figure on the cross. A thumb had obviously rubbed over the figure over and over, as the facial features were worn down. Looking up, Beocca was surprised at the tender look in Sihtric’s eyes as he looked at the crucifix. “It was my mothers.” Sihtric said quietly._ _

__Beocca looked up in shock. He was not expecting that at all. Maybe as a child, he had met a priest that had gifted him the crucifix to become closer to God. But, Beocca realized, he he knew absolutely nothing about the young man in front of him. After leaving Uhtred and King Guthred, the next time he had seen Uhtred, Sihtric was with him._ _

__Setting it down on the table, Beocca leaned forward. “What do you know about Jesus Christ, Sihtric?”_ _

__Sihtric bit his lip, brow furrowed as he thought. “He is God’s son?” He guessed. “At some point they brutally killed him.”_ _

__Beocca bristled a bit at the second part of Sihtric’s answer, although, yes, dying by crucifixion was brutal. “Yes, he is God’s son,” Beocca replied after a while. “Did your mother teach you this?”_ _

__Sihtric fiddled with his amulet of Thor’s Hammer. “She tried to,” he said honestly. “But I never took to it.”_ _

__“What did your family do?”_ _

__Sihtric glanced up at him. “I only ever had my mother,” he said, confused by the question. “You do know she was a slave?”_ _

__“Oh.” Flushing, Beocca fumbled for something to say. “I- did not realize…”_ _

__“Kjartan is my father.”_ _

__Suddenly, the pieces came into place. Sihtric must have been raised in the Danish stronghold of Dunholm. If his mother was a Saxon, then… Beocca clenched his jaw in rage as he remembered all of the horrible things he had done to Thyra, and now, to Sihtric and his mother._ _

__Beocca realized that Sihtric was not at all the person he thought he was. A bastard, half-Saxon, and trying to make his way through the world. He saw the way Sihtric looked at his wife, with love and compassion, and the dedication and loyalty Sihtric showed Uhtred was admirable._ _

__Beocca placed the crucifix into Sihtric’s hand, covering them with his own. “I am sorry, Sihtric,” he apologized, and Sihtric smiled as he placed the cord over his head and tucked it back into his tunic._ _

__“I have been wanting to know more about your god,” Sihtric said, fiddling with his mug. “My mother cherished her crucifix. She told me it was given to her by her father.”_ _

__“He must have owned land, to have one of silver.”_ _

__“He did. She said he was a farmer in a smaller village in East Anglia. She said that her family had lived there for many generations.”_ _

__Beocca heard the sadness in Sihtric’s voice. Although he had his own family with his wife, child, and the rest of Uhtred’s men, Beocca understood that he wanted to know if he had any more family. “Have you ever thought of seeing if they were still there?” He asked._ _

__“They are,” answered Sihtric. “Once I had enough of my own coin I hired a man to investigate the village.”_ _

__“Then you should go to them!” Beocca was smiling, suddenly excited with reuniting Sihtric and his family. “I’m sure they would be pleased to know you.”_ _

__“Oh, gods no,” Sihtric laughed, and Beocca felt his smile slip off of his face. Seeing his confusion, Sihtric continued. “They do not even know I exist, Father,” he explained gently. “To them, I'd just be another Dane. That is all anyone sees.”_ _

__Beocca did not think that it was meant to sting as much as it did, but the shame he felt in how he had treated Sihtric before tonight rose up. That was all he had saw Sihtric as. He did not know that he was born a slave, that his mother was a Christian._ _

__Beocca realized that he actually did not know a lot about many of Uhtred’s men. They were kind to him, and he did not reciprocate the feeling. He had assumed they were here because of the promise of silver, not because they believed in Uhtred and his cause. “May I ask a personal question, then?” He hesitated, unsure of whether or not it would be smart to continue. At Sihtric’s nod, he plunged forward. “Why do you dress as a Dane? I’m assuming you were mainly raised by your mother.”_ _

__Sihtric shrugged. “My mother took care of me when she could, but I grew up surrounded by Danes. I was their lord’s bastard. My mother was a slave who was whored around. There was not much for me to do but try to fit in. Once Tekil bought me, it was the only choice I could make.”_ _

__“But why do you not worship the one true God? You said your mother tried to teach you the Word.”_ _

__He shrugged again. “Again, it was her against a stronghold of Danes, who sacrificed their strongest beasts to their gods. And to be honest,” Sihtric looked Beocca straight in the eyes. “It was hard to search for a God who was meant to be merciful and loving. There was no mercy where I grew up.”_ _

__Beocca nodded solemnly, and they sat in silence for while. “Well,” Sihtric muttered, standing up. “My wife will be wondering where I am. Excuse me, Father.” He bowed his head slightly and moved his trencher and mug to the bucket of washing water._ _

__Beocca raised his hand in farewell, and watched the young man exit into the windy snowstorm that was starting to pick up. Sihtric had surprised him tonight. And, Beocca thought, he actually taught him something he should have learned many years ago._ _

__Sighing, he stood up and stretched his achy bones, feeling his age start to catch up with him. Placing his dishes in the same bucket, he found his way to his room, and began building up the fire. After washing his face and hands, Beocca knelt beside his bed, clasping his hands and bowing his head. And as he knelt there, he began to pray for a young man’s happiness and peace._ _


End file.
